


Liquid Courage

by katherynmae



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Drinking, F/F, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-21 10:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3688173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katherynmae/pseuds/katherynmae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spending two nights in a row drinking with Joan can make you say things that only alcohol would let you say. But it's not always bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liquid Courage

_December 24th._

All around her, the inmates were bustling with activity, arguing over what creative way they would decorate their blocks this year. The usual was shredded toilet paper, dyed off handed shades of red and green, scattered across the floor of each blocks’ common room. Sometimes crudely made, and sometimes contraband, Christmas presents were stuffed into piles of toilet paper on the table each Eve night. But along with the heightened antics with the women, came the heightened antics of the staff as well. As deputy governor, Vera found herself receiving the brunt of the complaints from the staff.

For the most part, Vera wasn’t entirely surprised that the rest of the officers were coming to her to complain - Linda had seen to that right away. Very few of them, except occasionally their newest addition, Meagan Blake, ever thought of even approaching anyone aside from her with complaints. It did, though, give Vera an awful lot of stories that she found herself admitting to Joan on their all-too frequent evenings that they spent together in her office. On this particular evening though, the complaint that Vera found herself hovering in front of Joan’s desk with was from Linda herself.

“She’s still seeing that _wank_?” Eyebrow arched upwards, Joan Ferguson let slip the faintest of a smile across her lips and she shook her head in disapproval. After Mr. Fletcher’s “accident” - as everyone called it - he had been confined to a wheelchair simply because he had managed to land one of the more progressive neurologists in the country as his primary doctor. Vera especially had expected Linda to dump Fletch, but she couldn’t help but privately admit to herself that the two idiots deserved each other.

“Don’t ask me.” Vera gave a shrug, circling around Joan’s desk to help herself to a glass of water. Later, when the rest of the officers who had spent their days harassing her instead of minding their jobs, she would go for the stronger stuff. Letting out a soft laugh, she blinked fondly at Joan, having to admit their evenings together seemed to allow far too many things to fall into place with her. “If I hadn’t ended things with Fletch the way I had, he would have been gone soon anyways.”

This caught Joan’s attention and she dragged her eyes away from the CCTV feeds of the H Block to stare at her deputy. “Oh?” She had always assumed that things between Vera and Fletch had simply fallen apart, or that had always been the way that Vera had phrased it out to her, but this new change intrigued her. “Why’s that?”

Vera’s cheeks tinged pink as she realized what she had admitted out loud and she circled back around the desk to drop into the chair opposite Joan. She pursed her lips as she pressed the glass to them, pretending to take a long drink, and internally cursed herself for being so carefree. “I - well - I’m not exactly sure that Fletch _is_ my type.” _Fuck._ Vera wasn’t even sure if she had a type or if it was just a _person_.

That was enough for Joan to close out of the CCTV screens entirely and she reached for her own glass, going straight for the gin and tonic bottles. As she filled her glass with far too much gin, Joan cocked her head to the side at Vera, “Your _type_?” She shook her head, “That’s never a phrase that I would have expected to hear from you.” Though, internally, Joan did have to breathe a sigh of relief at her deputy’s admittance and she leaned across the desk to drop a splash of gin into Vera’s glass. She _had_ learned her lesson on how easily her deputy came undone over gin and she figured tonight, she would take it easy on her.

“My type.” Echoing her words, Vera had to admit that liquid courage was probably just the thing that she would need that night and she tipped the glass’ contents back down her throat. She slammed the glass against the desk with far too much force, knocking one of Joan’s pens across the desk with the echo and she felt her cheeks brighten once more. “I’m sorry.”

Shaking her head, Joan Ferguson poured the younger woman another glass, going easy on the gin once more, and she returned the pen to its proper place. “You know, maybe you need a night out on the town Vera.” The suggestion was a ludicrous one - Joan knew that the quiet Vera would never go out alone, and she still had a hard time imagining the fact that Linda and her _had_ in fact done so once before. “A little bit of alcohol can go a long way if you play your cards right.”

A part of Vera had to cringe at Joan’s suggestion, but she also knew that she could easily turn the phrase around to reflect on her current feelings. Setting her glass down, she let out a soft sigh, “You know, I wonder if the officers would like if we did something nice for them tomorrow morning, just to thank them for giving up their Christmas mornings to spend time at work.” The suggestion wasn’t hers - in fact, it was one of the few suggestions that Meagan Blake _had_ brought to her instead of Joan and she cracked a weak smile. “Maybe have some coffee - not the usual sludge that we have either - _good_ coffee along with some baked goods.”

“You’re awfully thoughtful tonight Vera.” Joan had set down her glass as well and she narrowed her eyes at her curiously. “Are you sure that something isn’t on your mind tonight?” She knew already that Vera wasn’t _this_ on edge about their evening drinks, in fact, usually she was insisting that Joan stop keeping the gin from her and mix her drink properly. A part of her had to wonder if it had something to do with the fact that this were the first major holiday that she had spent without her mother, and while she still was learning even more about the rifts between Rita and her daughter, she couldn’t blame Vera. “Anything at all?”

By now, Vera would have thought that she would have been used to this side of Joan - they had spent over a year working together and their nights only strengthened their bond. She knew she was one of the lucky ones who got to see Joan cornered, and even sometimes afraid, and the thought of her seeing the woman who she knew to be so strong sometimes even scared her. “Well, it’s been different with just me at the house.” _Lies_. Cringing internally, Vera blinked down at her glass, wishing that was all that was going on in the back of her mind, “I’m thinking of selling the house though, maybe getting an apartment instead.” It wasn’t a total lie, but she was glad that the idea was out in the open now.

Vera’s response seemed to please Joan though and she topped off both glasses with far too much tonic and too little gin. “You should my dear. I know of a few places that are just _lovely_ little apartments.” The gin seemed pointless at this point, the two of them were doing enough talking without the alcohol helping them along, “You’ve become such a wonderful friend Vera and I’m proud that I get to see this new, stunning woman.”

Once again, Vera felt her cheeks tinge pink and she reached for the gin bottle that sat in between them, damning all honor in Christmas to hell as she strengthened her drink far too much. While Joan’s comments were easily enough to make her blush, she couldn’t help but admit that the idea of having a little too much to drink would play up in her favor that evening. “Why are you always so curious about Fletch and I?” It was an innocent question, one that she found herself wondering far too often but never asking. Almost every time they drank together, Joan found a way to bring up the all too familiar story of what exactly had happened between her and Fletch.

“No reason.” Joan was rarely tipsy, especially in front of Vera, she made sure of that, “Just want some answers.” Her third glass though, contained just as much gin as the first one had and she made a mental note to herself that she would need another bottle in a minute, “Why isn’t Mr. Fletcher _exactly_ your type?” The question was direct, which caught Vera off guard, and the look that Joan received made her smirk a little bit. “Or as your said, your _person_.” She dragged on the word ‘person’ - as if she were trying to taunt her deputy and she made a face as she twirled her glass back and forth.

This earned a girlish giggle from Vera, one of her telltale signs that she was beginning to feel the affects of her own drinking and she plopped her chin in her hands. “He’s got he wrong body parts.” Her words slurred together slightly, but to Joan, they were as clear as day. “Not exactly what I want to go to bed with.” Tipping her own glass to her lips, she swallowed the liquid, almost oblivious to the fact that the drink she had added her own mix of gin to had been far more than the average person would have been able to swallow comfortably.

Joan nearly choked on her own drink at Vera’s words, she had her suspicions about her deputy, but she wanted the timing to be on her own. She swallowed another mouthful of tonic, tasting far too little gin, and she set her glass aside as she let out a soft chuckle. “That’s one way for a relationship can fall apart.”

Vera’s glass clinked against the desk as well as she processed what she had just said and she stared at the table. Her hands returned to her lap and she sat in silence, letting out a long breath of air as she listened ever so faintly for the sound of a radio call, hoping it would ease her embarrassment. Instead, she blinked furtively, trying to avoid meeting Joan’s curious gaze and she swallowed, her voice a whisper when she spoke. “Though I wouldn’t know, I’ve never _been_ with a woman before.”

“You know,” Reaching to rest a hand on top of Vera’s folded ones, Joan’s voice was soft and thoughtful, “It’s not something to be afraid of.” She wasn’t exactly lying, but she knew first hand that relationships were hard as is, and knowing Vera’s short-lived chances at romance, she knew anything would seem worrisome to her. Running a thumb over the bones in Vera’s hands, she paused, waiting until Vera nodded slowly, “Don’t let your experience with Mr. Fletcher put you off from relationships ever again.”

Biting her lip, Vera held her tongue, knowing that the questions she had for her governor, and lately, closest friend, were far too inappropriate to ask even with the amount of alcohol they had consumed. Nodding again, she raised her head to meet Joan’s gaze, finding it nearly impossible to contain her shock when she realized how much warmth her eyes held. “Are relationships with women truly that complicated?” She knew enough about Jianna - Joan had made sure of that after Fletcher had confronted her - but her list of questions only seemed to grow as their friendship deepened.

“I - you know I’m not the woman to ask that Vera.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as Joan set aside her drinking glass, along with the empty gin and tonic bottles. Standing, she smoothed out her jacket, pausing ever so briefly to adjust her name badge, and she circled the desk to rest her hands on Vera’s shoulders lightly, her stature faltering slightly. “But any relationship takes time, lots of it, and trust.”

Nodding, Vera shifted in her seat, suddenly grateful for the knock at the door and she wondered how either her or Joan would be functional enough to be of any help. “You know, maybe we should sit this one out.” She paused, shoving her hair haphazardly back into its bun as Joan pulled open the door, and she swallowed, seeing Linda’s shadow hovering in the doorway. _Fuck_. Cursing herself, she realized the one thing she had intended on speaking with Joan about was the one thing that she had forgotten and she stood far too quickly than she intended to.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting _something_?” The stress that Linda put on ‘interrupting’ gave Vera’s skin crawl and she blinked at her from where she had taken up place besides Joan’s side. Her lips curled into something between a smirk and a scowl and her gaze flickered over Vera before she turned her attention to Joan, “I spoke to Vera about _not_ working tomorrow morning and well, it’s nearly midnight. Matt’s nurse has agreed to stay until my shirt tomorrow ends but I want to spend the Christmas with my man.” Her voice was almost nauseating and both Joan and Vera and to repress their laughter at Linda’s words, “I _need_ to call and let her know.”

Joan pursed her lips, nodding almost curtly at Linda’s plea, and she let out a huff. “You’ve been here long enough to know how these things work Ms. Miles, I don’t grant time off requests the day before. Those need to be planned ahead of schedule.” She paused, blinking at her and she shifted on her feet, “If you need a moment to make a phone call to inform your nurse that you _will_ be working until your double shift ends at eleven tomorrow morning, then I will allow it.”

The allowance was odd, considering the circumstance, but Linda didn’t bother to question it and she had to pause as a smile graced her features. “Thank you governor.” Turning, she nearly ran from the office, earning an amused smile from Vera as she went.

“She _thanked_ you?” Surprise was evident and letting out a laugh, Vera found herself leaning against Joan’s side, echoing her words again. “You didn’t allow her to do anything.” Pausing, she grumbled softly to herself, pursing her lips faintly as she made a face. “She’s going to be a terror to work with tonight, I’m glad I get to enjoy my holiday.” Vera couldn’t help but know that Joan was behind her being granted the entirety of Christmas Day off, and she grinned a bit more. “Poor Blake.”

Shrugging, Joan stepped backwards, pulling Vera will her as she shut the door of her office, “Ah well. Blake is a good officer, even if she does come to me with what seems like a new, self explanatory question every day. It would do Miles well to take a leaf out of her book for once.” She returned herself to her chair, exhaling sharply and she glanced at the clock on her computer, “You know, you best be going if you’re going to enjoy your day off.”

“I’ve had far too much to drink, I can’t drive home like this.” Vera hated to admit to herself that she had noticed Joan had been going easy on her that night and that her lack of sobriety was her own fault. “I’ll get a nap in the officers lounge before I leave, wash our drinks down with a mug of coffee or two.” She hesitated the mention of a shower, which she knew would be most relaxing to her, and instead craved a hot soak in the bath at home instead.

Joan smiled, reaching across the table to rest a hand on Vera’s and she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “No worries, but let me call you a taxi instead, I’m sure you would much rather sober up at home than here.” By the smile that graced Vera’s lips, she knew that she was right, and she breathed a faint sigh as she dialed for the taxi service.

***

Stepping from the bathroom, Vera shook out her still-damp hair from its towel, letting the droplets bead on the floor. She didn’t dare check the time, knowing that she had spent the majority of the Christmas morning asleep, and her soak in the bath had been much more relaxing than she had intended on. Rubbing the last of the exhaustion and water from her eyes, she stifled yet another yawn and dropped onto the corner of her bed. The house seemed far too quiet, most days it didn’t bother her, but on holidays, she noticed it just enough to let it get under her skin.

 _Ring_. Vera cursed the buzzer on the front door as it echoed throughout the house, managing a weak grunt as she rose from the bed. Tightening the belt of her bath robe, she let out a small sigh as she made her way slowly down the hallway. Her headache still lingered in the back of her mind, feeling much more like the end of a migraine rather than a hangover by this point, and she breathed a small sigh as she leaned against the door.

Peering through the lock, she couldn’t help but smile at the all too familiar feeling that the woman who stood on the other side of the door could see her there. Muttering to herself, Vera pulled open the door in a swift stroke, hoping that the smile had whisked itself off her face. “Hi.” Joan showing up at her doorstep had become a common occurrence after her mother’s death, and even more common after Bea’s little attack on her.

“You look better.” Holding out a paper shopping back in front of her, Joan Ferguson smiled weakly, showing the all too familiar smile that she reserved only for Vera once more. “I trust you’re no longer falling over yourself?” She hovered on the doorstep this time, unlike how she usually would invite herself in, and she waved the paper bag back and forth for a moment. “Christmas dinner.”

Vera had to laugh at the thought of eating a proper meal and she stepped back to allow Joan into her home. “It’s four in the afternoon, you can’t possibly mean that you brought dinner already?” She didn’t really know why she was protesting, her idea of dinner would have been whatever leftovers were in the refrigerator or piecing together whatever she had in the house into a meal. “Let me just go get dressed properly.”

Joan nodded, opening her mouth to reply, and she gave a shrug as she stepped into the kitchen. “Whatever makes you comfortable Vera.” Though she still wore her slacks and button down blazer from work, she had discarded her jacket and all too famous bun. Her hair fell loosely to the base of her neck, where she had pinned it back instead, “I don’t want you to overdress.”

Nodding back at her, Vera skidded back down the hall, her mind suddenly racing. She _knew_ that Joan always called her a close friend, but she didn’t exactly imagine that she had received the honor or being her dinner companion on holidays. Reaching into her closet, she found herself making faces at the majority of her clothes, knowing that to her, comfort meant pajamas and fluffy slippers after a long day. Of course, on one occasion when Joan had shown up unannounced, she had in fact been wearing just that, but pajamas and slippers didn't exactly scream Christmas dinner to her. Instead, she settled on a pair of track pants and an old baggy tee shirt that she figured she had gotten far too little wear.

“You know, you could have called first. I would have found something for dinner.” Vera didn’t bother protesting Joan’s arrival, or insistence on dinner, but she did feel guilty when she returned to the kitchen. On her counter, Joan had laid out the contents of the paper bag, which seemed far too small to contain everything that now sat out in front of her. She stared between the pre-cut ham, along with the grilled vegetables, small container of dried berries, a tub of ice cream and hot fudge. “You thought of everything.” Her gaze landed on the bottle of wine that sat besides the refrigerator, and the two glasses that Joan had already poured, “I at least could have thought up _something_ to make.”

Shaking her head, Joan pushed the wine glass into Vera’s hands, turning to stare at the assortment of food in front of her. “Well, I brought whatever seemed easy enough to carry.” She arched an eyebrow, amusement flooding her features, “You actually think that you're going to be able to eat a proper meal?” Nodding towards the dried fruit, Joan pushed the open container towards Vera, and she couldn’t help but internally smirk a bit more at her deputy’s embarrassment.

“Fine then.” Vera laughed softly and she nodded at the ham and vegetables in front of her, “I’ll live off this container of dried fruit tonight and you can eat the ham and vegetables yourself.” She paused, her gaze landing on the ice cream and fudge and she stood, ignoring the fact that she had barely eaten since the night before, snatching them up. “ _And_ I’ll keep the ice cream and fudge as well.” Putting the two items into the refrigerator, Vera turned to blink back at Joan, unsure of what she wanted to say without making her feel unwelcome.

Watching as Vera returned to her stool across the counter, Joan set aside the plates that she had chosen for their dinner and she leaned her elbows on the table. Blinking curiously at her, she inhaled sharply, trying to find the right words for their next conversation, and she took a sip of her wine. “Vera?” She waited until she had her attention before continuing, “You know that you don’t need to be afraid to ask questions.”

Swallowing, Vera took a sip of her own glass, knowing that Joan had already jumped into the conversation that she wasn’t sure if she was ready to have. “It’s not so much of me _asking_ questions, it’s more getting the answer I want.” She paused, her voice a whisper and she didn’t dare meet Joan’s gaze as she went on. “From _who_ I want.” Tipping the wine glass against her lips, she finished off her drink faster than she had intended to, holding out her hand for the bottle. “It’s a long story.”

“We have all evening.” Instead of filling her glass once more, Joan lifted the glass from Vera’s grasp and set it out of her reach on the counter besides her. “But if you’re going to work on developing a relationship with someone, no matter who you choose, you’re going to need to learn how to set aside the liquid courage.” She spoke the truth this time, having found she needed drinks to get her through the day after Jianna’s death and she reached for the bottle of wine, returning the cork to its place. “Just _talk_ Vera.”

This time, Vera knew she would have to listen and play her cards right without the drinks, two nights in a row would do her in entirely. Folding her hands in her lap, she blinked at Joan, her voice still a whisper when she spoke. “How do you _know_ when you’re in love? When you’re so in love with someone that you can’t imagine your life without them? Everything you do, you think of what it would be like if they were there with you?” Her voice shook slightly as she spoke and she chewed on her lip, trying to keep her gaze on Joan’s, “ When you know they’re the one who you’d give up anything for?”

For a moment, Joan found herself almost speechless at Vera’s words and she let out a long sigh. She had to squint back in her mind to the time when she had realized how easily, and quickly, she had fallen in love with Jianna, and then once more. Love wasn’t exactly her friend either, but she knew enough about the feeling that Vera described to her. “It’s different for everyone. But when you’re in love, really in love, you _know_ it Vera.”

“But how do you know if the person you love, well, if they love you back?” This sort of soul bearing exchange seemed more frequent between the two of them, and that thought comforted Vera as she let out a soft sigh. “Are you just supposed to put it all out there and wait?” The thought of leaving her emotions out in the open seemed frightening, and she gritted her teeth, reminding herself that she had done a hell of a lot of growing up in the past year.

Nodding, Joan reached across the table to take Vera’s hands in hers and she met her gaze, “If your feelings are real and honest, then I’m sure waiting won’t be all that painful when you hear that she loves you back.” Pausing, she nodded again as Vera’s eyes went wide and her lips twitched upwards into a smile, “Love _is_ a complicated thing Vera, but you’ve been lucky enough to find someone who truly does love the woman you’ve become.” She stopped, hearing Vera’s breath hitch and she had to let out the faintest laugh before going on, “And I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“You knew?” Vera’s voice came out as squeak when she spoke and she had to shake herself to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. “How?” She could feel her cheeks burning but she didn’t dare pull her hands from Joan’s as she blinked at her once more, feeling a wave of embarrassment sweep over her. “Was I _that_ obvious about my feelings?”

Joan had to laugh once again at Vera’s embarrassment and she shook her head, “No. But I had a feeling.” She ran her thumb over the back of Vera’s hands, the smile on her lips faltering for a moment as she gave a small shrug, “I’ve never heard you talk so highly of anyone else in your life, so I took a guess at myself.” Reaching up to brush Vera’s lips with her thumb, she smiled even wider than Vera could remember ever before, “I guess that I was right.”

Vera nodded back and she leaned across the table, hesitantly brushing her lips against Joan’s and she had to let out a laugh as she pulled away. “I think this has been my favorite Christmas yet.” Their first kiss had been slightly awkward but she knew that she could blame that on the large island counter in front of them and she had to laugh once more, “I think this means that we can reopen that wine now, doesn’t it?”

Laughing as she reached for their wine glasses, Joan poured both of them far more generously than she had before, “This certainly does.” Passing Vera’s glass back to her, she raised hers to clink them together, “Happy Christmas my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> WHOA. What a fic. I even didn't intend on this being as long as it is. I also intended for it to have more about what goes on at WWCC during the holiday season, but it didn't feel right.


End file.
